


Dissenting Opinions

by sinelanguage



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Insecurity, Leadership, M/M, Pre-Slash, post season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 14:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9758009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinelanguage/pseuds/sinelanguage
Summary: Lance had a lot of bones to pick with Keith’s new leadership.Five arguments and one apology.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Stella (obstinaterixatrix) for the beta!

So many things about Lance’s life were distinctly unfair. Maybe it was a balancing act between luck and despair-- he got one very good break, then twenty bad ones. He got the one big break of being the pilot of the Blue Lion, and the one terrible unfairness of Keith becoming the new leader of Voltron.  

When Keith told the group Shiro’s plans for Voltron, specifically his Keith-related plans for Voltron, Lance had plenty of words for it. He didn’t think Keith was lying (though he argued that Keith could be) or that Shiro would choose anyone else (though he did argue that too). There was just something terrible about having Keith-- Keith!- become the new Black Paladin, and Lance made sure his dissent was known.

After that reveal, Lance’s unfairnesses seemed to be stacked in the bad end of thing, rather than the lucky breaks. His latest unfairness was being forced to share an elevator with Voltron’s new fearless leader.

The elevator whirred and hummed as it ascended; the only other sound in the cramped space was Lance’s foot, tapping on the ground. Keith remained silent, occasionally glancing over at Lance for no discernible reason. 

Lance wanted to comment on the awkward silence, but he knew any acknowledgement of the salience of awkwardness would just make the whole thing, paradoxically, more awkward. It was common knowledge. He’d come across this same dilemma frequently, and he knew the best solution was to stay silent. 

Some situations, however, required a break in protocol. 

Lance peered at Keith, “You’re not heading to the pool again, are you?” Lance asked. 

“Do I look like I’m heading to the pool?” he countered, peering back at Lance. He probably wasn’t; his short, puffy jacket and fingerless gloves didn’t make for good swimwear, as much as the jacket reminded Lance of pool floaties. 

Lance shrugged. He couldn’t figure out why Keith did anything; maybe terrible pool outfits were in his game plan. “I don’t know!” Lance said. “You could be wearing a swimsuit under that.”

All he got for a response was a precariously upturned eyebrow. 

The elevator ticked on, and Lance tapped his foot along with it. It probably was annoying Keith-- all the better for that. It was annoying Lance, too, but sacrifices had to be made. 

“I know you’re doing that to-” Keith started, but cut off as the elevator lurched. 

Lance grappled for balance, grasping onto the puffy sleeve of Keith’s jacket. He tried to find the wall of the elevator, too, but he was too far away, and stumbled in his efforts. The lights flickered above them, until darkness swallowed the elevator shaft. 

Silence filled the elevator, once again, and the awkwardness was even more palpable. 

Hastily tearing his hand from Keith’s sleeve, Lance blinked to try and adjust to the dark of the elevator shaft. It didn’t really work, at all. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lance said into the dark. 

Lance felt a puff of air, and jumped back; had Keith been that close? “I’m just as pleased as you are,” Keith said, sounding utterly defeated. 

Keith really had no right to sound so put off. It wasn’t like being stuck with Lance was the worst thing in the world-- they’d gotten out the first time. Lance rolled his eyes, realized Keith couldn’t see in the dark, and huffed instead. “We got out of this last time,” Lance said. “And we have shoes on, so it’ll be easier.”

There was a terrible silence, one more tense than awkward. Whatever petulant annoyance filled Lance returned as actual annoyance. It was a fair point. It shouldn’t be hard to do, and it’s not like anything changed from then. Lance still liked Keith just as much as he did before, meaning he liked Keith behind closed doors where he wouldn’t have to admit it to anyone, and he was sure Keith felt the same. 

Or maybe he didn’t. Lance didn’t know, as Keith wasn’t saying anything. 

“What? Do you have a better idea?” 

“Okay, fine,” said Keith, after what felt like the worst pause in the world. “You’re facing the wall, right?”  
He wasn’t-- but it didn’t take long to get aligned for the task. 

It was less uncomfortable climbing the elevator shaft the second time, really. His feet didn’t slip, and he didn’t have to deal with the uncomfortably distracting awareness of touching Keith’s back, and it should’ve worked out. It really, really should’ve. 

They started slipping; their shoes had traction, but it turned out back to literal back worked better than back to jacket to jacket to back. It was difficult to keep parallel to each other, and it wasn’t made easier by their terrible pacing. 

“Lance,” Keith reprimanded in a voice that wasn’t quite his. It seemed restrained and clipped, and the tone just got worse. “You’re going too fast, would you try slowing down?” 

Pot calling the kettle black; Keith was going just as relentlessly fast, maybe even faster than Lance was. And plus, Lance didn’t want to listen to what Keith had to say. Sure, it was probably the right thing to do, since slowing down wasn’t a bad plan at all, but following Keith’s orders was a tough pill to swallow, especially with the whole leader thing. 

Maybe Keith was trying to emulate Shiro with the terribly unnatural voice, but it really wasn’t working. And it wasn’t like Lance  _ had _ to listen this fake leader voice of Keith’s.

“I’m doing just fine, you’re the one who’s-” Lance started, but ended in a yelp. 

Keith hadn’t been wrong-- Lance just didn’t want to listen to him. And, sure enough, probably what Keith was getting at, the both of them had slipped, tumbling down the elevator shaft and losing all the progress they’d made. 

Lance landed in a huff and a heap, on his back like an upturned turtle, Keith somewhere under him. Rolling toward the edge of the elevator, Lance opened his mouth to complain, but stopped short.

As he was rolling off Keith, Keith made a pitiful, garbled noise, that he tried to cover with a cough. Lance tried to place it on the scale of pain he himself was feeling, and it had to be a bit worse-- Keith had cushioned his fall, after all.

“I told you,” Keith said, “You should’ve slowed down.” His fake Shiro voice was gone, now returning was a pointed annoyance masking what had to be a Lance-sustained injury. 

“You should’ve too,” Lance countered, but it lacked bite. He blinked rapidly, wanting his eyes to adjust more. Sitting up, he could see Keith still in the center of the elevator, trying to sit up as well. It was much too slow; something had to be wrong. Lance’s suspicions were confirmed, when Keith let out a poorly concealed hiss. 

“Oh,” Lance said, staring at Keith. Keith drew closer to the wall, from what Lance could see in the limited light, and he tried to play the guessing game of what part of Keith was injured. Not his arms, as he’d pulled himself away with those, maybe his ribs--?

His answer came very obviously; Keith tried to stand, faltered with his left foot, and sat back down again.

“We can still climb the elevator-” Keith started.

“-now who’s going too fast.” 

Maybe it was too accusatory. Lance liked to think it wasn’t. Keith huffed, and said petulantly, “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine. “No, no no no,” Lance said, “We’re staying down here until the power gets back on.”

Keith groaned, again more peeved than he needed to be. 

Rolling his eyes, Lance tried to lift Keith’s leg by the knee. He started to readjust, trying to shove his own knee under Keith’s foot.

“Hey, what are you-” Keith started.

“-raising your ankle,” Lance interrupted. Despite his eyes having the chance to adjust, he still couldn’t see much. “If it’s actually broken, or whatever.”

Keith re-entered silent mode. “Thanks,” he said, after another pause. 

The elevator quieted, and Lance was beginning to hate the silence of it. Maybe things had changed between them, more than Lance had expected, and they hadn’t changed for the better. 

Making sure Keith’s ankle was still raised, Lance sighed and slowly leaned back against the wall of the elevator. The elevator shaft seemed much too dauntless, now, all slick walls and mountless edges. He’s not sure how they climbed it in the first place. 

* * *

The post-war diplomatic meetings were never fun; Lance thought they would be. A bunch of people from across the galaxy, congratulating Voltron on their tremendous achievement, fawning over them. Lance thought there’d be lots of smitten, cute aliens vying for his attention. The ideal ending for him-- and everyone else too, maybe. 

They didn’t get an ideal ending, though; that notion went to rest when Shiro disappeared. 

Instead, diplomatic meetings were tense mind games, mostly trying to make Voltron seemed put together. Everyone could count the number of Paladins they had, and word had spread enough that every potential ally was antsy over the fractured group. 

The Galra Empire may be shattered without Zarkon, but it wasn’t gone, and everyone had their own doubts to voice about if a fractured Voltron could be enough to clean up the rest of the job. 

“Alright, Paladins, we need the Atsua’s aid, so you’ll have to be on your best behavior,” Allura said, voice clipped. This kind of social micromanaging wasn’t very fitting of her, but that role was empty, so someone had to take it. “Try not to cause any trouble, or upset them.”

She seemed to give a pointed look at Lance, and Lance shrugged. “Got it,” Lance said, earning doubtful looks from everyone else. “What? I can  _ behave. _ ” 

Hunk, the traitor, was the first to speak. “Sure you can, buddy,” he said. “It’s not like you try your uh, charms, on every alien we come across-”

“Actually, flattery may work on them,” Allura interrupted, earning an unrightfully terrified look from Hunk. Pidge groaned behind him, but Lance just grinned, wide and teethy. “Just keep it… diplomatic,” she added, looking more than a bit off put.

Lance had to have a good line as a response to that, somewhere. It was on the tip of his tongue, he just needed the right moment to say it--

“Got it,” Keith said, before Lance could say anything. 

Everyone filed out after that, ignoring all of Lance’s protests to it. Everyone but Keith, it seemed. Lance watched as Hunk left, then Pidge, then Allura, until only Keith remained. Keith teetered on the edge of conversation, wanting to say something but keeping Lance in silence.

“What, you didn’t have your word in yet?” Lance asked. He peered at Keith, eyes narrowed, and Keith seemed to back off.

“What? No,” Keith said.

Trying to imitate Keith’s fake leader voice, Lance continued before Keith could defend himself, “I know everything now, blah blah blah, I even how to flirt with people!” 

“Lance-”

“ _ Lance, _ ” Lance mimicked. 

Keith sighed, throwing his arms up, “You know what, forget it!”

“What? What were you going to say?” Lance asked, as if he hadn’t derailed Keith’s entire conversation himself. Curiosity could kill the cat and satisfaction could bring it back, but only if pettiness didn’t re-kill it.

“I was going to ask for...” Keith paused, and for much too long.

Another unreadable expression. “What?”

“Nevermind,” Keith said hastily. “I’ll figure it out on my own.”

“Oh, good plan,” Lance said, despite not knowing what Keith needed to figure out. He wanted to leave, then and there, to get ready for the meeting, but Keith seemed miserable. His misery hung in the air like wet dog smell, pitiful and odious all at once. 

The pause gave Keith time to speak. “I just,” he said, then he paused. His eyebrows furrowed, into a frustrated expression Lance knew well, at least. “Why do you have to be like this?”

“Like  _ what _ ?”

Keith pondered, then gave a general motion to Lance.

“That doesn’t answer anything,” Lance countered. “Don’t you have to get ready to be the Black Paladin now?”

If Keith seemed miserable before, he seemed even more miserable now. Lance felt like he’d kicked the wet dog, as it lay there cold and wet and miserable. It was a touchy subject, and everyone was missing Shiro, but Keith probably the most. It was awful, and it probably wasn’t fair of him to throw that out, but it’s not like anyone had voted for Keith to become Black Paladin. Only Shiro had, and no one else got a say. 

“Right,” Keith said, curt and stilted, leaving before Lance could collect his thoughts. The silence felt stiff, and Lance watched the door long after Keith left. Maybe Keith didn’t want to fill Shiro’s shoes, after all. 

Lance shook his head, sighed, and headed out after him.

* * *

The cold of the alien planet chapped at Lance’s cheeks, but it didn’t make it harder to yell. “I told you, you were pulling low-”  


Keith was pulling in front of him. “I wasn’t!” he yelled back, and Lance could still hear him, even if he wasn’t turned around.

“Oh yeah? Then why did we crash land in the middle of nowhere? Because you were pulling up?”

A noticeably frustrated groan. “Lance-”

“So far up it got low?” Lance said, to a response of silence. 

The cold mist of the planet hung low in the mountains. Lance could hardly see more than a couple yards in front of him, it was so thick, and it made it frustratingly hard to keep up with Keith. 

He had to admit, Keith had a kind of relentless determination that could be considered admirable. The ability to see a destination and just go for it, doubtless in his ability to succeed. In any other situation, Lance could regretfully see it as helpful. Unfortunately, Keith’s main goal seemed to be to speed away from Lance, as fast as he could. 

“Hey, I’m not done talking!” Lance said, tripping over some of the viney undergrowth. He caught himself easily enough, but Keith was almost just out of view. 

At least the yelling gave Keith pause. Keith sighed, then started, “Why don’t you just listen to me, I don’t need your input-” 

“Yes you do!”

“-if all you’re going to do is complain!”

It slowed Keith down again, and now at least his back was completely visible, and no longer foggy. Lance watched as Keith turned around, finally able to see his expression. He had painted Keith’s imaginary expression as a signature permanently miffed look, eyebrows set downward and frown to match, but it turned out to be much less angry and much more stressed. 

As soon as Lance made eye contact, Keith’s gaze darted away. 

“Well, you’re the one who got us into this mess,” Lance said.

Keith didn’t say anything, probably because it was the truth. He’d misjudged how the fog would impact their ship, and despite Lance saying something felt off-- well, he’d kind of said something. He knew the fog felt off, but instead, he complained about Keith’s piloting. While normally pinpoint, this time it diverted in odd directions, until Keith’d diverted the ship to the ground. 

On the ground, the ship didn’t seem to want to move, plastered to the planet like metal to a magnet. Lance yelled something about crashing, Keith yelled that it wasn’t his fault, and the both of them stalked into the forest of fog without a plan. 

Maybe Lance should’ve been a bit more clear about his problems, instead of, well, complaining about Keith. But lately he just wanted to desperately pick at any flaw of Keith’s he could, like Lance’s own dignity depended on it. 

Lance frowned, not really paying attention to Keith anymore. “Huh,” he said, trying not to think too hard on that. 

The thought process had been lost on Keith-- probably because Lance, luckily, hadn’t said any of it out loud. He just looked confused, but at least he was stationary in his confusion. “I don’t know why I couldn’t control the ship,” Keith said, “But I…”

“I think it’s the fog,” Lance said. It wasn’t really Keith’s fault, as much as Lance wanted it to be. And pointing fingers of blame probably wasn’t very helpful, and he didn’t really want to die alone with Keith on this icicle planet.

Keith didn’t seem to get it, so Lance continued.  “You were doing… it was fine until we hit the fog, there’s something weird about it.”

Keith’s expression turned blank, then he nodded. “It was only after we got closer to the surface,” he said. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Lance said, a bit too fast. That probably didn’t serve the fragile, walking-on-eggshells mood, but he was never very good at managing those. 

It didn’t seem to stop Keith, though. He shrugged it off, like water off a duck’s back, and said, “If you knew it was the fog the whole time, you could’ve said something.”

Lance should apologize. “Yeah, yeah,” he said instead, “Let’s just get out of here.”

* * *

It was late; or at least, everyone thought it was late. The castleship didn’t really have a day-night cycle, but everyone at least tried to keep a similar sleeping schedule. Some were more successful than others, though, which often lead to late-night bickering.  


Lance, normally, had the best sleep schedule of all of them. It wasn’t typically hard for him to doze off, or sleep in, as it seemed to be for absolutely everyone else. There were always exceptions, though, and the exceptions made him rightfully cranky and annoyed. 

It was nearing the middle of his normal sleeping hours, and Lance was still wide awake, staring at his ceiling in utter and total defeat. 

He really wanted to sleep, but he felt guilty, and just a bit terrible, for just about everything. Keith really didn’t seem to even want to lead Voltron-- and yet Lance had no problems with taking it out on him, anyway. The ambiguous “it” being his frustrations at his place in the team, more than anything. Keith getting a role change just made his own role ever the more clear. 

It was very unbecoming of him, to be this honest with himself, just as it was very unbecoming of him to lie awake during sleeping hours for absolutely no good reason. Introspection wasn’t a fun game to play, it was just tiring and unproductive. 

In the end, he didn’t really want to apologize to Keith because he had some good bones to pick with Keith. But now probably wasn’t the time to pick them. Or at least, he could try to pick them better, so Keith actually got the bone-picking memo that he so often missed.

It kept him awake enough that he really ought to be doing something, instead of lying in bed like a lazy house cat. Grumbling, Lance pulled himself out of his misery nest of blankets, jostled his slippers out, and headed out of his room to-- somewhere. Somewhere in the castleship where he could mope in peace.

The pool was out-- how did Alteans even swim in an upside-down pool?-- as was the control room. That was probably a peak restless spot, as it had a good view and plenty of tech to tinker with. Not the best place for alone time, seeing as he didn’t want to see another soul. Maybe he’d sneak around to see if he could use the maps, but Lance wasn’t sure that would improve his mood. 

Instead, Lance decided that he’d go to another high-traffic area, and visit the Blue Lion. Sure, he was extremely likely to see someone else there, but at least he could count on being able to hide in the Blue Lion’s cockpit and wait it out.

It would be nice, but Lance’s luck still had something against him; as soon as he settled into the comfort of his pilot’s chair, he could see another small figure in the room, and it wasn’t hard to tell who it was. 

Keith, across the room, stared up at the Black Lion, fists to his side. Even from this distance, Lance could tell he was upset, and the whole thing felt like he was eavesdropping. He didn’t look away, though, not until Keith wiped his eyes with his hand.

After that, Lance leaned back in his pilot’s chair, placed Pidge’s headphones over his ears, and tried to wait for sleep to come. In the end, he didn’t know if he fell asleep before Keith left or not.

* * *

Rain clashed around the cave they were stuck in, water pooling by the entrance. Every now and then, a streak of lightning would hit somewhere- somewhere close, judging by the roar of thunder that quickly followed.    


Lance leaned against the wall, staring up at the ceiling of the cave. They were truly stuck here. Lance had gone and fell into a local’s animal trap, tripping to the ground, hitting his head, and janking up his leg in the process. Everything felt fuzzy and slow, and Lance had the feeling it would frustrate him if he wasn’t so tired. 

It definitely frustrated Keith, though. He paced around the cave, sparing Lance the occasional glance, then pacing some more. The occasional glance may have been an understatement; Keith often looked over, asked Lance to say something, and Lance’d respond with the first word that came to his head. Currently, he was on a good streak of imitating the Yupper, giving Keith frustratingly one-word answers.

It was peculiar, seeing Keith freak out. It should feedback loop into Lance freaking out, and into some chaotic mess of a conversation, but Lance’d been hit hard enough that his normal freak-out mechanics were stalled. Instead, he watched with muted curiosity, as Keith checked his commlink again and again.

“It’s fine, Keith,” Lance said. Keith didn’t seem to buy it; he didn’t even warrant it a word, just a snort. “We’ll just wait for the Red Lion to come. Easy.”

“I could probably carry you out-”

“-bad idea,” Lance said. Keith looked miffed, but there were a lot of reasons that wouldn’t work. Keith wasn’t looking too good himself, the forest was filled with traps, the storm was sure to prevent any progress. “It’s raining,” Lance said, with authority. When Keith gave him what Lance could assume was a confused look, he clarified, “We’d get lost. Easier for everyone to track us when we’re in one place.”

Another aghast look from Keith, who looked like he was ready to grab Lance over his shoulders and bolt. He didn’t, though. Luckily, for once, Keith had listened. Maybe because for once, Lance was being direct about things. Having a broken leg certainly helped with the argument, too.

“Alright,” he said.

After a longer pause, Keith added, “You still have to, uh, talk.”

“Yup,” Lance said. Keith rolled his eyes, then sat down next to Lance.

Restlessness wasn’t a good look on Keith. Maybe he just looked better in action, because inaction just made him look horribly lost. There wasn’t anything he could do, but he seemed to want to find something to attack. Lance took a good study of Keith’s profile, as Keith seemed to be pointedly ignoring Lance’s gaze.

“You probably have a concussion,” Keith said.

Lance shrugged. “Yup,” he said.

Keith let out a terrible, frustrated breath, Lance could see something of a smile there. Lance could make up for that, and smile back wide.

Another moment passed, and Lance was wondering if he could stop talking now. Keith had turned his gaze to outside the cave, watching the rain as it pooled outside. 

“Do you think the Black Lion would come?” Keith asked, very quietly.

Keith was probably betting on Lance just responding with a single-word answer, or not hearing at all. “I said the Red Lion,” Lance said. “You’re… not the Black Lion’s Paladin.”

Keith became horribly quiet. Lance didn’t notice before, but he’d always be fidgeting, and pacing, but now he was just still.

“-I mean, you don’t have to pilot the Black Lion. You’re not Shiro, Keith, but you’re not...” Lance laughed, and Keith turned from the rain and gave him a stern look. Honesty was always easier when Lance felt light-headed, but that often came with way too much levity. “You’re not  _ that  _ terrible at this. You’re kind of terrible, but… you don’t have to pilot the Black Lion to, uh, lead us.”

Silence stretched between them. Keith grabbed Lance’s shoulder, in an effort to say something, but stopped short of saying anything. Lance blinked slowly, trying to focus back on Keith, and trying to give something that would pass as a smile.

It probably didn’t pass as a smile, as Keith shook his head, and his grip on Lance’s shoulder tightened. “You’re half dead,” he said.

“But I’m not full dead,” Lance said. He wanted to laugh again, but that probably wouldn’t fit the mood, or the situation. “And it’s kinda my fault.”

Keith didn’t answer, only shrugging. It was hard to piece together his expression, now, especially as Keith had turned back to the entrance of the cave. Lightning must have struck outside, because it was getting brighter and brighter, but strangely, no thunder followed. 

“It’s not,” said Keith, finally. “You’re kind of not terrible at this either.” There was finally an answer to the lack of thunder, too. Lance could see the bright, yellow eyes of the Red Lion coming in, and that was all he could see, before passing out. 

* * *

Lance didn’t even get a break from his bad luck after being placed in the healing pod. It had to still be late, when he blinked awake. Grogginess took over any initial elatedness about being alive, and the healing pod spit him out without any regard for his alertness.  


He had one, final unpleasant bit of luck, in that he’d woken up when only Keith was waiting at the healing pod. And Keith seemed exhausted, hair tossed in ways Lance hadn’t seen before, and a blanket thrown over Keith that someone else had to have given him. 

Keith’s alertness, however, hadn’t faded, and before Lance even realized Keith was awake, Keith had sprung up, staring at Lance owlishly. “Lance,” he said, blinking at him slowly. “You’re awake,” he added, stating the obvious.

Not having much else to do, Lance nodded. He wanted to sit down, but sitting down meant approaching Keith, and that seemed very daunting at the moment. Because after everything-- after the whole ordeal of breaking his leg, and being honest for once, he should probably apologize to Keith, for everything leading up to it. He had been meaning to, but not wanting to, for much too long. 

Neither of them said anything, pause stretched between them as Lance tried to figure out what words to speak.

Of course, Keith beat him to the chase. “You were right about,” Keith paused. “Some things,” he said. Lance huffed, and Keith continued, “And I just wanted to say, I…”

Keith had time to prepare what he was going to say, but couldn’t seem to get it out. Lance gave him the pause, foregoing his apology, at least for the moment.

“Lance, I don’t know what I’m doing,” Keith finally admitted. It seemed to take a lot out of him, like he’d thought on it long and hard, and he must have had plenty of time to do that. It didn’t look like he’d gotten much sleep at all.

Lance scratched the back of his neck, and looked past Keith. “Well, I’m not really helping out with that, am I?” Lance asked. 

Keith could’ve at least said something to that. Instead, he said nothing, and Lance wanted to get his apology over with and sink back into the healing pod. 

Something must have shown in Lance’s expression, as Keith shook his head, “It’s not that,” he continued. Lance thought Keith had been perfectly clear, thanks very much. “You see stuff I don’t pick up on,” Keith said, “but you’re not always helpful about it.”

Lance looked at Keith, who looked much too sincere and much too intense, and high-pitched laughter bubbled through him from who-knows-where. Finding the wall a much better sight to look at, Lance tried not to look too embarrassed, but it was hard to hide a flush.

Keith seemed to be intent on digging Lance’s grave for him. “But you’re helpful sometimes,” he added, when Lance didn’t say anything.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t take a compliment; he could take plenty of those. It just set him off-kilter from absolutely everything, and made his entire reason for being a jerk in the first place seem made-up. He wasn’t left behind, with the leadership switch; in fact, it was quite the opposite.

“Oh come on,” Lance said. He tried to look at Keith, and he did not succeed. “You could at least try to- to let me apologize first!”

Keith made a confused noise, and it was becoming hard to ignore him. An apology probably wasn’t obvious to him.

“You’re right, I’ve been, uh, a jerk, and unhelpful, most of the time,” Lanced huffed. “So, yeah, I’m sorry,” he said, finally looking Keith in the eyes. Keith had bags under his eyes, but his shoulders lost their stiffness, and he seemed to finally calm down.

“That was the worst apology I’ve ever heard,” Keith said, but he gave Lance the smallest of consolation smiles. 

Lance scratched the back of his neck, this time from embarrassment. Keith could be terribly direct, even if it was supposed to be insulting. 

“I’ll… try to have your back,” Lance tried to make up for his worst apology. “Since you’re not very good at making like, actual good decisions.”

It wasn’t meant to be such a jibe, and it should’ve been a bit less prickly. But Lance’s luck turned, and instead of taking offense, Keith laughed. “Thanks,” Keith said.

It wasn’t like Lance could force Keith into doing this leader thing alone, especially when Keith had so many bad ideas to begin with. “No problem,” Lance said. He just had to make sure Keith would listen to him-- at least, some of the time.

**Author's Note:**

> quick 5+1. Hope you enjoyed! As always, my tumblr’s at sinelanguage and twitter’s at sine_tron.


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